


not like everything i do depends on you

by neilwrites



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 18:03:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15756933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neilwrites/pseuds/neilwrites
Summary: Derek has a problem, and -as with most teenagers- this problem is a crush. That doesn’t sound too bad, you might think, except Derek’s crush has been appearing at the Hale family dinner table for two nights a week for the past three months. Yes, Derek’s crush is about five foot eleven, speckled with moles, and, oh yeah,Cora’s French tutor.





	not like everything i do depends on you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gia279](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gia279/gifts).



> i was very kindly bid on during the [fandomcares auction](http://fandomcares.tumblr.com/)  
> by [gia](http://outtoshatter.tumblr.com/) who asked for fluff and crack and an awkward crush so hopefully i managed to hit the mark here!
> 
> (title comes from jennifer paige's 'crush', a classic)

Derek has a problem, and -as with most teenagers- this problem is a _crush_ . That doesn’t sound too bad, you might think, except Derek’s crush has been appearing at the Hale family dinner table for two nights a week for the past three months. Yes, Derek’s crush is about five foot eleven, speckled with moles, and, oh yeah, _Cora’s French tutor._ Really it’s not so much a problem that he has this crush, more so than it is Derek not being able to function as a human being in front of him. Stiles Stilinski is the bane of his existence. Beautiful, mesmerizing, and a _pain in the ass_ , because Stiles could not give one iota of a fuck when it comes to Derek.

It also doesn’t help matters that Cora is always around when Stiles is at their house -as tutoring is his job, Derek can’t really fault him for that-, but Cora _knows_. She has no qualms about looking at him expectantly, telling him with her evil eyes ‘Go ahead, Derek, say what you have to say’. Stiles never gives him such a look. Whenever Derek has the brilliant idea to stand still in their dining room and stare at Stiles, wondering if this time words will come out of his mouth instead of him choking on his own spit, Stiles merely gives him a glance and continues writing while Cora tries to muffle her cackling.

Besides the fact that he doesn’t seem to remember how the human body works when Stiles is around, Derek isn’t too sure what he’s done to make Stiles so indifferent towards him. Not that everybody should be interested in Derek, of course -dear God that sounds like hell, he gets stage fright when he has to talk to more than 2 people at once-, but Stiles seems to get along great with Cora, Laura, _and_ his parents.

 

* * *

 

Derek accidentally slams the door to the garage when he walks into the hallway and parks his shoes under the staircase. His back itches with dried-up sweat since he couldn’t take a shower at school after practice, because Coach had him running laps late and they needed to lock up. The only reason Derek had to run laps is because he got blamed for someone else’s mistake, but Derek hates confrontation. He also figured it wouldn’t hurt to get some abs -purely for his own sake of course, no one else in mind- and it was quicker to just agree. An hour later, feeling itchy and gross, Derek regrets every decision he’s ever made.

He hears muffled voices in the dining area and clears his throat before he walks over.

“-oes he know how a door works?” Derek hears Stiles’ voice trail off and he blushes.

He keeps his gaze mostly to the floor while he passes them on his way to the kitchen, but then of course, he looks up. _Come on, Derek, you can do it. Form a sentence. Nice and loud!_

“You want drink?”

Stiles blinks. Cora coughs into her sleeve.

“I- You know- Drink?” Derek helpfully points behind him to the kitchen.

Stiles gestures to the table in front of him where two full glasses rest. “We’re good, thanks.” He smiles, so Derek looks back to the floor to hide his red cheeks.

“Ah,” he mutters, and speed-walks to the fridge. He grabs a bottle of water, and though he’s not proud of this, he bolts upstairs.

 

* * *

 

It’s Sunday morning when Derek’s making himself a sandwich, wearing his lazy weekend clothes. He would have stayed in his pajamas, except he hasn’t done that since he was fourteen when his threadbare pajama bottoms _betrayed him in front of his whole family_ and has since been dubbed ‘The Boner Incident of 2K14’. Ever since then, he’s always stuck to thick sweatpants that are a size too big, an oversized t shirt -just to be safe- and an even longer flannel shirt -just to be even safer-.

He doesn’t notice someone else has stepped into the kitchen until he hears a familiar voice say, “Nice flannel, Derek.”

It’s pure instinct that makes him go, “Thanks, I’m gay.”

There’s exactly three seconds of absolute silence while Derek suffers from cardiac arrest. _Don’t do it, Derek. Don’t you dare turn around._

Derek turns around. Stiles is staring at him wide-eyed, and Derek is pretty sure he looks the exact same way. _Fight or flight, Derek. Fight or flight! Freeze is not an option!_

“I need to gay,” Derek says. “Go! I need to go!”

He doesn’t move. He can’t feel his legs. Does he still have legs?

Stiles clears his throat. “Your sandwich?”

“Take it,” Derek shouts, and finally his legs start cooperating. He runs into the garage and lets out an almighty scream. When he turns to escape to his room, he notices he forgot to close the door.

 

* * *

 

Stiles wears nail polish. Derek knows this, because he checks every time he’s there and also because one time he said “Nice nails, Stiles,” and Stiles just stared at him as if he were bitchslapped. It’s entirely possible Stiles thinks Derek is a dumb jock who likes to bully people. He knows this because Cora told him so. And, in true Cora fashion, she has done nothing to change his mind.

Which brings us to Derek sitting on the floor in Laura’s room, painstakingly painting his nails black while the rest of his family’s out. Or so he thought.

The door flies open before he can even hide the bottle, and he’s faced with Laura’s arched eyebrow.

“Derek,” she says.

“Laura,” he squeaks.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on here?”

“Not really.”

Laura joins him on the floor and ruffles his hair. “Give me your hands.”

Derek nods shamefully and shows her. “The left one went alright, but as soon as I tried my right, it went all over the place, and I couldn’t rub it off!”

“Well no, that’s why we have nail polish remover. Don’t worry though, the whole ‘one hand looks great and the other looks like shit’ thing happens to everyone. Don’t even get me started on eyebrows or eyeliner.” Laura tuts and grabs a big bottle and cotton pads. “How about we take this off and start over, I’ll help you.”

Derek nods and smiles. “Thanks.”

“You know, you have surprisingly nice nails for a teenage boy,” Laura says, while taking the color off of his nails (and fingers).

Derek shrugs. “I guess?”

“I’m serious, half the guys I know in college clip their nails so short their fingers bleed.”

Derek shrugs again as Laura applies a thin coat of black on his nails. “You’re pretty good at this.”

“Well yeah, I’ve been doing this for the last ten years. You can be good too if you practice. Or is this more like a one-time deal?”

“Dunno. Just wanted to try it out.” Derek blushes as Laura looks at him knowingly.

“No particular reason?”

Derek shakes his head and wishes he could hide his face in his hands.

“You know, we’re gonna have to wait for your nails to dry to do a second coat, so we’ll be here a while. You might as well talk to me.” Laura grins, as if she doesn’t know everything already.

Derek grunts and falls on his back. “Fucking fine.”

“Derek, watch your mouth!” Laura cackles.

The next day when Stiles is over, Derek grabs a few granola bars and purposely hands one over to Stiles, black thumbnail on full display. He throws one in the direction of Cora’s face as he watches Stiles do a double take and choke on his own tongue. Cora starts thumping his back and Derek runs upstairs to Laura’s room, grinning so wide his cheeks hurt.

“It worked, it totally worked!” Derek jumps into Laura’s arms.

“Derek, I can’t fucking catch y-” Laura squeals as they fall to the ground.

 

* * *

 

It’s a Friday night when Derek opens the door to a surprised Stiles.

“Uh,” Derek says. “Hi?”

Stiles grins and immediately straightens out his face as if he didn’t mean to do that, and replies, “Hi. Is Cora home?”

Derek frowns. “No, she went to the movies with Laura. Why, did you have plans together?”

“Well, I mean, she said she had a massive test on Monday and needed my help, so uh… here I am.” Stiles shrugs. “I’ll text her.”

That’s weird, Cora never usually forgets her meetings with Stiles. In fact, she usually likes to rub them in Derek’s face as soon as he wakes up, but she never mentioned this one.

A cold chill enters through the front door, making Derek shiver in his shirt and sweats combo, and he realizes he’s literally leaving Stiles in the cold.

“Hey, why don’t you come inside?” _It’s a whole ass miracle. Derek has said three sentences already without accidentally spitting on Stiles a single time._ “It’s fucking freezing outside.”

Stiles doesn’t look too sure. “Eh, I should probably go. She’s not here and it doesn’t look like she’s coming home anytime soon…”

“Fuck that, just come in, before I freeze my tit-, my toes off. Definitely said toes.”

Stiles lets out a bark of a laugh, and it’s the most gorgeous sound Derek has ever heard. He’s gotten him as far as their hallway, so he just needs to keep up the momentum.

“Are you sure?”

“Super duper sure. Listen, you can even tutor me, if you want?”

Stiles chuckles. “I don’t really tutor people because _I_ want to. Do you even take French?”

“Uh…,” Derek says. “ _Non_.”

“Good.” Stiles grins.

“Why?”

“ _Tu as vraiment l’air mignon aujourd'hui, merde._ ”

 _Oh holy fuck, Stiles’ accent… It’s doing things to Derek’s body. Hold on,_ merde _means shit, right?_

“Did you just…,” Derek pauses as Stiles tenses up. “Did you just call me a piece of shit?”

Stiles snickers and finally takes his shoes and coat off. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Derek pouts. “Inconclusive evidence.”

“Those are some big words for a jock,” but Stiles smiles wide as he says it.

Derek playfully punches him. “I’m top of all my classes, you judgemental nerd.”

Stiles dodges out of the way and throws himself onto their giant sofa. “Just not French!”

“You couldn’t pay me to open a French textbook.”

“Meanwhile your parents pay me twice a week to open one,” Stiles grins as he hooks his chin over the back of the couch. “You gonna stay in the hallway, hot shot?”

Derek most certainly does not choke, _thank you_. As large as their sofa is, it takes Derek a while to find a position where he isn’t accidentally touching Stiles, who decided to just throw his limbs wherever there was room.

“So, no parents either?” Stiles waggles his eyebrows suggestively which makes Derek grin.

“No, they’re having dinner with...friends…” _An epiphany. A solid moment of clarity. Those bastards Derek calls his family set him up!_

“Is that not allowed or something?”

“What?” Derek looks up at Stiles.

“What?”

“I asked you first.”

“Oh my god, Derek,” Stiles exclaims, “You’re such an ass.”

“Well, you know what they say.” _Don’t do it, Derek, don’t finish that sentence._ “You are what you eat.”

A beat of silence. Another one. Derek feels like his heart just fell straight out of his ass.

“Uh.”

“You know, I’m not gonna lie, I thought _my_ brain-to-mouth filter was bad.”

Derek’s cheeks are sure to be developing second-degree burns by now. “Could we, maybe, pretend that never happened?”

“I don’t know, Derek,” Stiles says, amusement clear in his voice, “I’m getting some very vivid visuals here. Not sure I wanna get rid of those.”

Derek glares at the coffee table like it holds the solution to all his problems. _Ah! The remote!_ He throws it behind him and hope Stiles’ face wasn’t in that specific area. “We can watch Netflix, you can pick something while I die of mortification.”

Stiles chortles. “Are you serious? You invited me over to Netflix and-”

“I didn’t invite you!” Derek shouts. “Wait, that sounds terrible, god, fuck-”

“Chill, Derek,” Stiles voice tells him from much closer than Derek thought. A warm hand rests on his shoulder and he finally feels brave enough to look up, straight into Stiles’ eyes.

“I-”

“We could, you know. Chill. If you wanted to.” There’s no humor in Stiles’ voice, no sense of teasing on his face. He just looks warm, and adorable, and also, a little bit turned on. Derek definitely shares the sentiment.

“But- You, I… You hate me?”

Stiles looks amused. “Are you asking me? Because the answer’s no.”

“How do you know I even uh… like you?”

“I’m sorry, was your crush on me meant to be a secret?”

Derek blinks. That’s valid.

“So,” Stiles grins and cups Derek’s jaw. “You wanna make out?”

A car door slams in the driveway and Stiles and Derek stare at each other.

Derek whispers, “You wanna make out upstairs?”

“ _Après toi_ ,” Stiles smirks.

“Is that- Does that mean ‘after you’, or like-”

“Move, Derek!”

Stiles’ laugh follows him up the staircase.

  


_fin._

**Author's Note:**

> "Tu as vraiment l'air mignon aujourd'hui, merde." >> "You really look cute today, shit."
> 
>  
> 
> i'm on [tumblr!](http://padmoony.tumblr.com/)


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